


Flirting Lessons

by sinelanguage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinelanguage/pseuds/sinelanguage
Summary: Allura consults her worst-- and only-- flirting expert for advice.





	Flirting Lessons

Allura’s grateful for the dim lighting and boisterous company, as she doesn’t think any of this is very dignified. Sure, neither she nor Lance are wearing anything recognizable, but she can’t help but worry they’d be recognized regardless of attire. Hopefully no one’s looking to the corner stall. How would she explain that away? Diplomatic meaning? Undercover spying?

She can’t think about it very long, as Lance leans back in his chair, and she has to pay attention again. He’s balancing it on its back legs precariously, and Allura’s just waiting for the moment it tips over.

“Are you an alien?” Lance asks, cocking an eyebrow. The expression’s entirely unappealing. “‘Cause you abducted my heart long ago.”

She’s more uncertain than ever about Lance’s qualifications. “What does being an alien have to do with abduction?” she asks, and Lance leans forward to sit in his chair properly again. “Your solar system is far enough away from galactic trading routes that I don’t imagine alien abduction’s a common phenomena.”

“No, it’s a common thing. Aliens totally visit Earth, and they abduct cows and stuff. And video games, apparently.” Lance can tell she’s not impressed, because he throws himself into a new argument. “And Keith!” Lance enunciates with a wave. “He’s an alien. And he’s on Earth. Or he _was_ on Earth.”

“If he was left on Earth, that’s the opposite of abduction--”

“--and, uh, the pick-up line’s not the point,” he pivots. “It’s all about the _technique_.”

She wants to follow up on how ridiculous the line is, but she can’t waste all her time arguing about the finer details of Lance’s methods. She’s here for a reason, a _purpose_ , even if she’s beginning to doubt the effectiveness of these lessons.

“I’ll show you technique,” she mutters, though she doesn’t know if she has the bite to match her bark. Following Lance’s lead, Allura tries to totter her chair by its back legs. She leans against the back of the chair on one elbow, going for the relaxed-but-suave angle Lance lauded, and hopes it looks natural. It certainly doesn’t feel natural. It feels like her center of gravity’s about to meet the floor.

Still, she follows up the pose with her best smirk. “Your gravitational pull must be, ah, incredible,” she starts; her chair totters and her smirk wavers. It’s hard to recover from. “Because I’m caught in your orbit.”

She holds the pose for a moment, then slams the front of her chair’s legs back on the ground, where they belong. A pause hangs between them, and Allura’s got the feeling she’s failed _something._

The pause breaks as Lance snickers, then laughs outright. “Oh, no, no no no, that’s not,” Lance starts, “No. Absolutely not.”

“What? That’s better than the line _you_ chose--”

“It’s not about the line, it’s about the technique!” he says. “And your technique was-- uh--”

“I did the exact same thing you did!”

Lance sighs dramatically and leans back in his chair. Of course he does. “Well, it _worked_ for me,” he says.

Oh, this whole plan’s a mistake. “But has it ever _actually_ worked for you,” Allura counters.

“I-- uh-- on the mermaid planet,” Lance says. Then, he points a wild and accusing finger at her. “And you asked me for help! So you obviously think I know _s_ _omething._ ”

Lance is her best option, but that’s not a hard test to pass. Her Paladins may be many things, but other than Lance, flirts they are not; Keith and Pidge are too blunt and uninterested, Hunk and Shiro too sincere for such crude methods of romance. And it’s not like _she_ ever learned how to flirt in seedy pubs on galaxy outposts. She knew how to talk with diplomats, even be coy with them, but this situation is distinctly different.

Still, it’s not his fault she’s just… not very good at this. Sighing, she taps her fingers on the table, hoping to fill the pause with some kind of noise. “I apologize, I did ask for your help,” she says. “I just don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere.”

Maybe that’s a bit imprecise. “I just don’t feel like _I’m_ getting anywhere.”

Lance’s help is useful, despite Allura thinking that Lance’s flirting isn’t particularly effective. No, it’s rather repugnant, and repetitive, and she’s glad he’s learned to drop the act. But he flirts with an ease that’s enviable, like he always has a hand to play, even if it’s terrible. It’s like he’s oblivious to his own embarrassing actions, and Allura just can’t maintain the same sense of shamelessness.

“Maybe we should try another technique,” Lance says, contemplatively raising a hand to his chin. “I don’t think this is working for you.”

It’s a start, though Allura doesn’t really want to know the depth of Lance’s flirting techniques. “You mean I don’t have to use pick-up lines?” she asks.

Lance waves a dismissive hand at her. “No, those are still-- those are still non-negotiable,” he says. “They’re _essential._ ”

Allura doubts that.

“What?” Lance says; something must have shown on her face. She doesn’t bother to fix her disbelieving expression. “Anyway, I have a better plan that might fit better with your, uh,” Lance pauses, “With your learning style.”

Before Allura can even dignify that with a response, Lance propels himself from his seat. Motioning toward her, he walks away with purpose, and Allura strides after him easily.

“With my learning style?” She tries to keep her voice to a discrete hush, but she doesn’t think it’s hushed enough, as other pub occupants look her way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“--well, think back to, uh, when you first piloted Blue,” Lance says.  “Did you practice before hand?”

“Obviously not. I didn’t exactly get the chance,” she says. “And it-- it didn’t exactly go over well.”

This seems to momentarily stall Lance, but he shrugs it off. “Uh, exactly,” he says. “But you got the hang of it!”

Allura has a bad feeling about this. “Lance--” she starts, but he’s already off, dragging her away from the secluded corner stall.

As always, Lance talks with ease and bravado he shouldn’t possess, and for a while, Allura thinks he’s just showing off. It also might be a poor attempt at an example of flirting, but she’s seen Lance flirt enough to know how _he_ thinks it should work. He’s practiced on her before.

She turns to return to their corner booth, rolling her eyes, but Lance grabs her by the shoulder and turns her around.

“I’d like you to meet my friend, Allura,” he says. He’s talking to a Xruab; she’s tall with leafy vines spreading down her arms, and Allura winces a smile up at her. “I think you have a lot in common! You’re both,” he pauses. “Not from Earth.”

“Lance,” Allura whispers, but Lance is already pulling away from them. He gives her a big thumbs up, and then, he’s gone.

She looks up at the Xruab. “I, uh, didn’t catch your name,” Allura starts. She wishes she could see Lance in her peripherals, but he’s completely lost in the crowd.

“Astia,” she says. She looks as lost and uncomfortable as Allura feels.

Naturally, their mutual unease block all conversation. There’s no exit in sight. Maybe they could both agree to just walk away from this conversation, but Allura doesn’t want to give up on her terrible quest. It seems like she doesn’t have a choice but to resort to pick-up lines.

“Uh, are you a constellation?” Allura asks; she needs to remember the rest of the line. Astia in front of her scratches the back of her neck with one long claw, and avoids eye contact. Allura puts a self-assured hand under her chin and leans forward. “Because every time I look at you, I… um.”

Astia winces, and coughs into her hand. Allura winces with her; why did she think this was a good idea?  “Uh, sorry, I,” she starts, and looks over Allura’s shoulder.

“Have to go?” Allura finishes for her; a mercy killing.

Astia nods, and skitters away from the carnage of Allura’s dignity.

Allura groans, wondering why she’s even doing this, and Lance somehow finds her again.

“That went well!” Lance pipes in, his voice squeaky. He adds on, finally getting control of his vocal chords, “Uh, well, that… there’s nowhere to go but up?”

She’s trying not to get frustrated, but it isn’t easy. “I wanted to flirt with girls, not make a complete fool of myself!” she says. Those two things are probably the same for Lance.

“You’re not making a fool of yourself,” Lance tries to console her. “You’re not making that much of a fool of yourself. I’ve made a bigger fool of myself.”

That doesn’t ease Allura’s embarrassment at all. “And I may have misread that situation,” Lance says quickly. “I’m, uh, still getting used to being a wingman.”

“A wingman?” Allura questions; that doesn’t seem relevant to this flirting escapade.

Lance stares at her blankly, and something dawns on his face. “Oh, nevermind,” he says. “It’s-- I’ll help you out. Talk to girls first for you. It’ll be great.”

The next girl Lance talks to for her is a shorter Vepalt, with bright coral scales. She’s much more energetic than Astia, and Lance manages a gripping conversation about something with her before dragging Allura over.

Instead of pulling Lance’s moves, exactly, Allura tries to go for a variant that’s less totally absurd. She smiles, sure, but without the extravagant posing. “Space is infinite, so I must have gotten _astronomically_ lucky to meet you,” she says, and it garners an awkward laugh. The conversation doesn’t go much further, but it’s better than nothing.

The other lines, as wince-worthy as they are, go over a bit better. “I’d say you were as bright as a nova, but I never want you to fade away” gets at worst an amused, disbelieving giggle. “Are you a shooting star? I’m afraid that if I blink I’ll miss you” starts a long-winded conversation about the fact that shooting stars aren’t actually stars that doesn’t actually go anywhere.

Allura finally thinks she’s getting somewhere, as while “We must be approaching the speed of light, because I can feel time slowing down every time I look at you” takes a moment to set in, but the girl’s positively charmed for at least a couple of minutes before conversation dies down. It’s pleasant conversation, but nothing more than that.

While Allura hasn’t exactly talked to someone for more than a couple of minutes, it’s at least not as daunting. The lines she can scrap next time, but the bravado of it all she’s starting to get down. It’s the practice she wanted out of this escapade, and she’s remarkably satisfied.

“You sure you want to leave?” Lance asks. “I can do this all day.”

Allura resists rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you could,” she says, measured. “But I think we should be getting back to our responsibilities.”

Lance looks heart-broken. “I guess,” he says, and he looks like he’s about to complain some more, but he quiets as someone heads their way.

It’s an Eflea, her fluffy down feathers looking well-pressed and shiny. She’s holding a drink in one hand, talons tapping nervously on it. Allura’s lost as to what’s happening, but then the Eflea straights up, gives a nervous smile, and says, “Hey, uh. I wish thoughts had an escape velocity, so I could get you out of my mind.”

It takes Allura a second to respond; she huffs a laugh. “That almost sounds like an insult,” Lance guffaws next to her, and jabs her in the side with his elbow, but Allura has to explain herself. “Like you want to stop thinking about me.”

This catches Eflea off-guard; the feathers on the top of her head flutter a bit, and she tries to flatten them back in one place with her hand. “I guess?” she hedges. “I didn’t mean it that way!”

“Oh, I mean-- it wasn’t that bad,” Allura tries to recover. “I’ve been using worse lines all night.”

“Hey! My lines are _great,_ ” Lance protests.

Allura waves him off. “--they’re decent conversation starters,” she says.

The Eflea shrugs sheepishly. “So do you want a decent conversation?” she asks, her feathers ruffling again. She doesn’t bother to flatten them down, this time.

Allura smiles wide, and tries to act casual; it’s probably a lost cause. “Sure,” she says, hoping Lance forgets they were heading out. Luckily for her, he seems to get the memo. “That’d be a good start.”

**Author's Note:**

> Allura flirting with Blue was so great. Thanks to Air for the pick-up lines!
> 
> I'm on tumblr at sinelanguage, and twitter at cosinelanguage! Thanks for reading.


End file.
